Harassment of Queer Women in Nightlife
She also reported feeling unprotected within Cork's only gay bar at that time, stating; “I stopped going there because I never got through a night without being groped, harassed verbally or physically, or in one case spiked. As a trans woman in a space that was supposed to be made for queer people I felt like a puppet and a piece of entertainment, like my existence was a show.” Another woman, who wished to remain anonymous (she/her), gave insight on what it was like being a lesbian and black and the backlash she receives regularly regarding her being openly gay as a woman of colour; “It’s really strange. You aren’t doing anything abnormal, you’re doing the exact same thing straight couples do, you act silly, make out with a cute girl, but for whatever reason it attracts the worst kind of attention. You get catcalls, lads coming up to you and giving you unwanted remarks, sometimes they even get physical. And because I’m black - and there’s no hiding that (not that I’d want to) it’s..different. I’m being viewed as something exotic, there for their viewing pleasure, kind of like everything I’m doing is a show for them I never agreed to. And bouncers and staff won’t do anything about it.” There is a clear issue with the lack of protection queer women in Cork when it comes to bars and nightclubs. Women of the LGBTQ+ community are dealing with verbal and sexual harassment regularly and feel the people that are there to protect them are turning a blind eye to it. Being sexualised, objectified and dehumanised is something anticipated with dread when being open about your sexuality or gender identity on a night and the people exhibiting this behaviour clearly see nothing wrong with it. It is evident something needs to be done but the question is what can we do? Truthfully, I don’t have the answer to end homophobia and stop creeps from sexually harassing women and queer people. I wish I did. However, there are some things we can do. Queer people need safe spaces to attend during nights out where their safety is prioritised and guaranteed and it’s important for us to support these places to ensure they stick around. It is so important to support queer events so that the LGBTQ+ community of Cork have somewhere to go where they can simply exist and feel protected. It saddens me to know that so many people always have to be weary on a night out and have to downplay their queerness. I feel worse when I think about those who can’t. I will however, always continue to advocate for the safety of queer people because we deserve a fun night out just as much as anyone else, and let’s be honest, we’re the life of the party. So when I can, and when I feel brave, I don’t hide my queerness. I do kiss that pretty girl. I do enjoy my night, because my hope is that if someone sees me being at ease with my sexuality it might make them feel at ease too. So what I will say is this; enjoy your night out. Support venues that can ensure everyone's safety. Enjoy picking your outfit, singing and dancing with your friends and having one too many shots. If you feel safe enough and brave enough, don’t hide. Because things are getting and will continue to get better. We are here, we are queer, and we are not going anywhere.
By Kate Healy (She/her)
sink a little at the fact that we know we have to be careful and being openly queer puts that at risk. With the concerns for queer women’s safety, it begs the question; does Cork city have a safe nightlife environment within pubs and clubs? In comparison to other counties, where there are countless stories of beatings and attacks due to people being openly gay, it is definitely better than most. However, there are issues and little is being done to fix them. As of 2023, women were reported to be experiencing twice (28%) more sexual harassment than men (13%), and the queer community were reported to be experiencing even higher levels of assault; bisexual people (63%) and gay people/lesbians (48%) [SOURCE: Irish Examiner]. In 2022 a quarter of adults (29%) reported sexual harassment happening in pubs, bars and discos, with women (32%) experiencing it at a higher level than men (29%) [SOURCE: Central Statistics Office]. Given these statistics, it makes sense that women and queer women alike are concerned when going out at night to pubs and nightclubs. In recent years, there have been very limited LGBT+ spaces in Cork, with our only gay bar closing in 2023. With alarming statistics like the ones listed above, and no guaranteed safe space for us in Cork until very recently, how are women of the queer community able to take part in nightlife culture, enjoy themselves and feel protected? These are issues we are faced with and in order to understand these issues and their impact properly, one must understand the broad spectrum of queer women and understand these issues are going to differ from person to person. Lucrecia Luna (she/they), a queer transgender woman, reported in an interview with me; “I don’t feel safe and there are spaces I avoid because I know they wouldn't be smart to go as a queer person. I’m a trans woman, we don't get the luxury to downplay our queerness. I try to go stealth if I can in any unsafe situations but generally it’s just not something that’s on the table. I am no stranger to getting clocked. I am loud and proud and unapologetic, or at least I try to be - when it’s safe/I’ve never felt safe around gardaí or bouncers or other people supposed to protect us. The majority of queer people I know have been harassed and abused by these people. The only protection queer people and queer women especially have is each other. We travel in packs, take self defence classes, carry things to protect ourselves or just learn to run real fast in heels, all just in case something happens. Generally, society needs to do better to protect queer people.”
If you ask any of my friends “What’s Kate's favourite thing to do?” I would honestly put all my money on them saying one thing; “Kate loves a good night out”. And I won’t lie, it is the absolute truth. I love everything about it, making an event of it. I love getting ready as the night approaches, deciding between these shoes and those shoes, what skirt goes with this top, will I wear my hair up or down, and oh God please help me find that other earring. I love having my friends over for prinks and feeling the buzz of the night begins as giddiness washes over us. Getting to the venue never goes smoothly, as it is exceptionally hard to get a group of tipsy queer 20 something year olds to a precise location in a timely manner. But, once we’re there? It is simply bliss. Music blaring so loud you can feel it coursing through your body. Singing (rather screaming) and dancing with your friends when the DJ has finally played your song. Everyone teasing each other, shoving them slightly into that cute guy or that hot girl and mouthing “GO FOR IT.” And then the lights come on, you’re all ushered out of the pub by the bartenders who just want to go home to bed. The next morning you spend the entire day regretting the few shots that were only supposed to be one, all while smiling slightly because you know you’re still looking forward to your next night out. I absolutely adore a good night out. I adore the lead up, I adore the fun with my friends, and when the night goes well, it is something we will talk about for time until the next time. However, at least for my friend group, which mostly consists of queer people, there’s this....unspoken worry for the start of the night. You get ready and meet your friends and it subsides, but then you get to the venue, and you feel it slowly creep over your friends too, and you know you’re all thinking the same thing; What if something bad happens? There’s always this worry in the back of my mind that I have to be weary of where I am and how much of my queerness I present. If you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time and the wrong person sees you “acting gay”, the world of trouble can be drawn towards you. And as a woman, the caution is even higher. I have done nothing more than hold another woman’s hand in bars and have had an orchestra of catcalls jeered at me, I have been asked when “the show” ends and these boys can “get in on the girl on girl action”, I have even had it go so far as to be inappropriately touched and grabbed at when I was spotted kissing a girl in a smoking area of a pub. Women are subjected to this anyways, and it is in no way okay, but women of the LGBTQ+ community like myself look around nightlife in Cork, see straight couples having the fun they have every right to have, and our hearts
150
151
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker